Bittersweet
by IguessIwritestuff
Summary: Just some grown-up Rugrats coffee shop story that's been aching to be finished for about a year (k plus for minor swearing, mention of drugs)


He sits at the table alone, flicking the top of the lonely cardboard party hat displayed before him.

Chuck had been in the once-familiar café for about fifty minutes, rotating between stirring the cream into his now cold latte and checking the time. He sighs, flicking the hat once again. The hat tips over, rolling around in a small circle on the tabletop before falling onto the floor. He has no plans to pick it up. It's nothing short of a metaphor. He checks the time on his cellphone, sighing for a second time. He really wasn't sure why he'd expected them to be here. He'd gotten one yes, three maybes and an IOU. So far, none of that had changed.

It was a lousy birthday, despite the gifts from his family and the video chat call from Kimi and her small children. Surprisingly he'd even gotten one of those tacky animatronic birthday cards from Tommy, albeit in Norwegian. He was overseas filming a movie, so of course Chuck understood the lack of thought, but it was just the slightest bit irritating to have to pull out Google Translate just to read his own birthday card. He'd gotten two other cards - one from an old college acquaintance and an interactive E-mail from a music streaming service he'd really meant to unsubscribe from. It just managed to pale in comparison to birthdays like eighteen, or twenty-two, or even twenty six, and not just because everyone had been home for those particular birthdays. Chuck smiled at the thought of those birthdays. He always smiled thinking about Tommy gifting him an (illegally obtained) inaugural scratcher ticket when he turned eighteen. He cringed thinking about turning twenty and letting Kimi convince him to get an earring. It made him laugh to think about how in an attempt to shed a good-girl reputation Lil had downed nine shots of tequila on his twenty fourth birthday, only to make herself sick for the rest of the night... they were good memories.

He'd been expecting a goofy E-Card from Lil a few days before, usually signed with her brother's name as well out of courtesy, so it was odd when his inbox hadn't shown something of that nature. She was always on top of the trivial things. He knew she was probably busy - she had good reason to be distracted. He checks his phone again, realizing that he's probably been waiting for nothing. Chuck wasn't expecting anything from Dil, because he was off galavanting around Arizona or New Mexico on some kind of wildlife retreat he'd found through the Internet. Plus, if it would provide any consolation, Angelica's assistant always sent out the same damn image of that dog with sunglasses, without fail, around eleven PM, when it hardly mattered anymore.

The bell above the door dings, and he looks up in excitement, exchanging a disappointed glance with the woman that enters. She smiles at him a little bit, and he can't help but wonder if she can tell how sad he is. Kind of pathetic to sit alone on your thirtieth birthday in a coffee shop your father and friend's' mother used to own. He claimed it as his 'place' since he'd been home for the past few days - even though Chaz and Betty no longer ran the café, it still felt homey, like a part of his childhood. Chuck had fond memories of working there when he was young, whether it was coming up with obscure smoothie concoctions with Kimi, or Phil pelting him with old blueberries for five shifts straight in the tenth grade. Even being thirteen and feeling Lil's hand squeeze his under the counter, in a sneaky form of forbidden love, for lack of better words.

It's tiki-themed now. It makes him a little uncomfortable, but they seem to be drumming up plenty of business. He's happy for them.

Chuck finds himself checking his phone for the tenth time in probably under five minutes. He knows she's going to be here, she already said she was coming, but she said three fifteen and it's already pushing four. It's not like her to be late. Maybe a lot has changed in three years. He picks at his sweater, pulling the cuff down his arm further. It's not like him to worry about something as silly as appearance, but being an accountant he'd just grown so used to dressing UP that he no longer had any sense of how to dress down.

The bell above the door rings again, and a very pregnant woman leans up against the doorframe to catch her breath. Chuck takes a deep breath and smiles, pushing his chair back and standing up. He can see her eyes light up from across the room. It has to be her.

He walks a bit closer, offering her his hand. "You need any help?" he asks, and Lil swats it away.

"I'm fine, thank you." she replies, propping herself up on her feet. "Just because I'm creating human life doesn't mean I'm any less capable." Chuck laughs at that. She hasn't changed a bit.

"Lil, at...at least let me get your seat for you." he offers, pulling out the chair. She sighs, sticking her bottom lip into an exaggerated pout.

"Oh, fine." she says, putting her hand on the back of the chair as she sits down slowly and carefully. "Soooo, what have you been up to lately?"

Chuck isn't sure what the answer is to that. I'll take...nothing for $800, Alex. He shrugs, reaching down and picking up the party hat he'd dropped. "Business. Work. The normal. It's tax season, so I've been pretty swamped, and—" he stops as she puts her hand on his, laughing a little.

Lil rubs her thumb over the top of his hand. "I mean outside of that, Chuckie. Do you still go by that? It's probably...Chuck now, huh? Or Charles?" She sets her other hand on her stomach, taking a deep breath. "Oh...oh."

"It's...it's fine. I mean, it doesn't really matter that much, but it's not like I c—" he begins his reply, and then looks at her in concern. "Are you okay? You look flushed."

She smiles, taking her hand off of his. "If by okay you mean eight months pregnant. Nobody tells you how hard this is. And this is supposed to be the easy part." She's tired, he observes, judging from how sunken in her hazel eyes are and the chipped purple polish on her nails. "I've wanted this since I was little, but now that it's actually happening everything became so...REAL."

"Yeah...yeah, I can...imagine." he stumbles over his words, trying to find an appropriate response. "I mean, Kimi has two kids, and I know it wasn't easy f— what...what am I saying?" Chuck pinches the bridge of his nose. "Congratulations on the...baby. I...I don't know why I was so weird about that. And, uh, you'll be a great...you know. Mom." Chuck takes a sip of his latte, spitting too it back out into the cup. "Oh, god, that's so cold." he mumbles, before looking back up. She's always had the prettiest smile, in his opinion, with those little gaps in between her front teeth and molars. Her teeth aren't perfect, but her smile has personality.

"Oh, I am STARVING. Being pregnant has made me feel SO fat. Is it okay if I order something?" He nods, clasping his hands in his lap.

"Well, for the record, you aren't. You...you look great." He turns a little red, sighing in embarrassment at himself. "I, uh, I mean that as a friend."

"Well. Also as an indifferent friend, you look nice too. All dressed up in your fancy sweaters and dress pants. Oh, I can't wait until I don't have to wear stupid maternity clothes anymore. This blouse is SO unflattering." Chuck laughs a little. She's always been funny. That was probably why he liked her so much fifteen years ago.

She isn't wrong about the blouse. It is a little shapeless. It works though - her sense of style has always been a little eccentric. "Thank you for coming." he mumbles. "I know it was a long drive."

"Only a few hours, and it was SO worth it." Lil picks at the chipping polish on her nail before giving her hand a disappointed look. "Speaking of." She lowers her voice almost to a whisper, and leans in closer. "What the hell did they do to this place? I thought after our parents sold it to the new owners...well, I figured I wouldn't have to come face to face with a tiki statue. It's gaudy." She looks around, shuddering at the decor. "It's not even tasteful. And trust me, I would KNOW." That's right, Chuck remembers, she's an interior designer. She must be disgusted just being around all the fake Hawaiian decor.

"I mostly just came here for the sentimental appeal." he admits, and she glances at the counter, a small smile creeping across her face.

"A lot of memories in this building." She pats the table awkwardly, and laughs. "I just can't help but think about all of the things we got away with in here." He remembers all too well, his favorite memory one of being sixteen and sneaking into the back room when business was slow to play the ongoing game of Monopoly they'd had set up on the floor for months. When he'd finally won, she threw all the little plastic houses at him and accused him of cheating. It took him hours to find them all while he was closing, but it was worth it.

"Anything specific?" he quizzes her, and she shrugs. It really could have been anything. The time Phil ate an old banana and gave himself food poisoning. Or was she thinking of all the boyfriends Kimi had snuck in the back room? The time they had caught a fifteen year old Dil in the bathroom holding a blunt and had to keep it a secret from their parents?

"Where do I even start?" When she laughs, the edges of her eyes crinkle up a little, and Chuck can't help but laugh a bit himself. "We were practically wading knee-deep through all of the crud we kept secret by the time we graduated."

He straightens his collar, waving at a waitress. She isn't wrong. "Like our whole...you know." He smirks a little, and she kicks him under the table. They'd dated for a brief period in high school, trying to keep it a secret from their friends. It lasted less than a week.

"I think we can both agree that was a MAJOR mistake. I think we saw an opportunity and— oh, yes, can I have an, um...three of the chicken and ricotta sandwich? And the biggest glass of orange juice you have." Lil shakes her head a little once the waitress leaves, furrowing her eyebrows. "Where was I again?"

Chuck pushes his glasses further up his nose. "Something about an opportunity."

Lil traces her finger over some Japanese writing on her arm, not meeting his eyes. Kimi has the same tattoo, and Chuck knows that she told him what it meant once upon a time, but he can't remember now. "I can't believe we never got caught. It felt so...wrong. I guess I did always end up falling more in love with the danger." She looks up again and he notes she's a little flushed. "Hard to believe that was fifteen years ago. So. Speaking of, any updates on finding looooooove?"

"Well, I'm sure you know I haven't been the luckiest. I got on a six hour plane ride to spend my thirtieth birthday with my PARENTS."

Lil gasps. "Oh shit." she mutters, a little louder than she intended. Chuck gives her a look, and she narrows her eyes. It was a little weird hearing her say something of that nature, but Chuck couldn't admit he was innocent, letting a few nasty words slip out now and again in frustration. "H...happy birthday, Chuckie. I...I completely spaced. I am so sorry."

"You showed up." he replied, shrugging. "That's more than I can say for anyone else."

He sees a new sort of sadness in her eyes. "Well, we'll just...make plans again. I know I could convince Phil to get a drink, and maybe Kimi could get time off of work, and—" Chuck shakes his head.

"Tommy won't be back for months." She meets his eyes, a defeated sigh escaping her lips.

"Damn. Well, we can't say we didn't try. There's always next year. Maybe we could start making plans a little earlier." Lil folds her arms on the table, hunching over a bit. He can smell her perfume - some indeterminate flowery scent he knows he was once allergic to. It's fitting.

He's known her practically all his life, and yet he still happens to notice new little details, like the small flake of mascara that's somehow made its way towards the bridge of her nose. He's never going to stop looking at it now. Damn it. "So...how's your husband?" he asks. She's been married a few years, to a man she met while in college. He seems nice enough.

"Oh, nothing all that different. We're sort of counting on this baby to change our lives." Her eyes shift downwards, and she fidgets around a little. He can tell by her body language that's not everything she wants to say. Chuck isn't expecting her to just knock over the walls she built up and spill her life story. Even when they were younger, Lil wasn't exactly an all-cards-on-the-table type. She closed off a bit more in high school, after a dating experience freshman year she refused to talk about.

"I'm guessing you're both excited." he states, and she shrugs.

"Quite honestly? Phil's been more excited than I have. Must be some twin telepathy side effect, because sometimes he texts me exactly when the baby starts kicking. It's like he KNOWS." Chuck laughs a little at that.

"Sounds about right." he replies, and she smiles.

"Remember when we were kids and we couldn't WAIT to grow up? Well, I..." He's only half listening, mostly glancing around the café and seeing memories, mostly figments of imagination created by his subconscious, sitting behind her.

He sees her old middle school soccer team, laughing over Phil's absolute casualty of a penalty shot. He sees Kimi's first kiss, he sees Tommy and his first serious girlfriend, and he sees his father desperately trying to set up a microphone on the portable platform stage. He sees a fifteen year old Tommy with his video camera, shoving it in their faces as their friend group played a heated round of Uno; he sees himself and Lil at seventeen, watching as she kisses him for the last time and they decide their friendship is more valuable. Somehow he manages to feel the phantom kiss against his cheek. He sees the whole gang after high school graduation, laughing and lounging in the booth seat on a cushion that needed to be replaced years before, and then suddenly they're in their early twenties, at the final party they ever threw at the coffee shop.

Then, he sees her in front of him again, and realizes maybe everything is going to be okay. She's right. There's always next year. Plans just overlapped this time, and he knew it was naïve to assume a week of notice would be enough for everyone.

It's not the worst birthday.


End file.
